


Take Me Out of My Mind

by RetroactiveCon



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Humiliation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: The last person Leonard Snart expects to come knocking on his door is Barry Allen.“Scarlet,” he says in surprise upon opening it. Barry looks up at him from under lashes still damp with tears. Leonard quashes the urge to hug him. Someone else has hurt his little Scarlet, and when he finds out who it was, there will be hell to pay. “Come in. What brings you to my humble abode so very late at night?”There’s no blushing, no babbling, none of the oh-so-innocent tells his pretty little speedster usually can’t suppress. Instead, in a ragged voice that shatters halfway through his request, Barry murmurs, “Please. I need to not be in my head right now.” Tears fall anew down his pale cheeks. As though Leonard wouldn’t grant this one, much-needed favor, he repeats, “Please.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 22
Kudos: 317





	Take Me Out of My Mind

The last person Leonard Snart expects to come knocking on his door is Barry Allen. 

“Scarlet,” he says in surprise upon opening it. Barry looks up at him from under lashes still damp with tears. Leonard quashes the urge to hug him. Someone else has hurt his little Scarlet, and when he finds out who it was, there will be hell to pay. “Come in. What brings you to my humble abode so very late at night?”

There’s no blushing, no babbling, none of the oh-so-innocent tells his pretty little speedster usually can’t suppress. Instead, in a ragged voice that shatters halfway through his request, Barry murmurs, “Please. I need to not be in my head right now.” Tears fall anew down his pale cheeks. As though Leonard wouldn’t grant this one, much-needed favor, he repeats, “Please.”

“Ohh, Scarlet.” Leonard cups a hand against Barry’s cheek and smudges a tear with his thumb. Barry freezes under his touch, looking up at him with helpless, pained eyes. “How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?”

Neither of them has ever succumbed to the electric _want_ between them. Leonard can’t deny he’s thought about it, though, and Barry evidently feels the same. Later, he’ll tease him about his choice of partner. For now, he cradles Barry’s jaw and pulls him into a slow, deep kiss. His lips are soft and vaguely salty from tears, and when Leonard licks along the seam, they part beautifully. Barry stays as still as an ice statue until Leonard pulls away. 

“One condition.” They’re no longer kissing, but they’re so close Leonard goes half cross-eyed to meet Barry’s eyes. “You choose a safeword, something you wouldn’t normally say during sex. If I hurt you in a way you don’t like…” There are ways he will like. Of that, Leonard is certain. “…you say it out loud, and I stop.”

Barry shakes his head. “I don’t…I want…”

“I know what you want, Scarlet.” Leonard presses his thumb against Barry’s kiss-pink lips. “You want me to take you apart so that whatever thoughts are tangled up in your pretty head go away for a while. And I will. I’m a man of my word.” 

Barry’s eyes are riveted on his mouth. He doesn’t want a kiss—Leonard has seen him when he wants a kiss but is too shy to ask for one. Rather, he’s hanging on Leonard’s every word. 

“But I will not touch you unless you have a way to tell me I’ve gone too far,” he finishes. “So. Safeword?”

Without hesitation, Barry says, “Eobard.”

“Eobard.” Leonard tests the word on his tongue. It’s a name—he would stake money on that—but not one he’s ever heard before. “Very well, Barry. Say that aloud, anytime, and I will stop.”

Barry nods. His face is still a mask of pain, something Leonard can’t bear to see. Without warning, he scoops Barry in his arms bridal-style. “My, Scarlet,” he murmurs. “You’re lighter than you look, and you look pretty light.” His little Scarlet has a runner’s lean build, but this is more than that. Leonard doubts he’s been eating recently. That’s a problem for later, when whatever thoughts are tormenting him have been silenced. For now, he carries him to the bedroom and lays him gently on the mattress. Barry props himself on his elbows. Leonard pushes him back down with a hand on his chest. “Ah-ah-ah. Your job is to lay there and wait.”

He undresses under Barry’s watchful eye, neither slow nor fast but efficient. Once his briefs have fallen to the floor, he climbs onto the mattress between Barry’s legs. They spread willingly, an invitation he capitalizes on by running a hand up one warm thigh. Barry cants his hips up, his breath hitching in anticipation. Just to tease, Leonard skirts the place he most wants touched and skims his hand up Barry’s flat belly. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs. Barry came to him wrapped up like a present, and Leonard takes his time unwrapping him: jacket, cardigan, and button-up shirt. The fabric falls eagerly away from a pale, slender chest dotted with freckles and moles. Leonard dips his head to taste a particularly tempting constellation of freckles above Barry’s collarbone. He keeps his touch light, reverent, more lips than tongue and more tongue than teeth. When he draws back, he utters a thoughtless, truthful “Beautiful.”

Barry shakes his head, sorrow once again twisting his face. “I—I’m not.” 

Leonard will correct that misconception with time. For now, he simply ascertains, “No? Not that?” When Barry shakes his head again, he formulates a new plan. “Very well, then.”

Instead of taking his time, he strips Barry as efficiently as he’d stripped himself. As soon as he’s done, he captures Barry’s mouth in a searing kiss. Barry opens up to him immediately. Leonard swallows his moans until Barry pushes him away, breathless and dizzy. 

“I think,” he murmurs in between kisses to Barry’s jaw, “you want to be told you’re a _slut.”_

Barry’s hips cant up. Leonard is far enough above him that he can’t get any friction, and the needy noise he makes only sells Leonard’s lie. 

“Look at you,” he sneers. It’s his coldest, most cutting tone, and later, he’ll apologize for it. “Central City’s sweet little hero, on his back begging to be fucked by the _bad guy.”_ He punctuates his words by palming Barry’s cock. Barry’s mouth falls open, but he hasn’t caught his breath enough to moan. “Not as virtuous as advertised, are you, Flash?” 

This is the right game to play, Leonard realizes with some relief: he’s barely touched the kid and he’s already beading pre-come. It won’t do to have him go off so soon, so Leonard trails his hand down and rubs his fingertip over Barry’s tight little hole. 

“Tell me, am I your first? Or do you bend over for a different criminal every week?” 

Barry keens and rolls his hips down against Leonard’s finger. Without hesitating, Leonard brings his other hand down on Barry’s flank. The sound is sharper than the sting. It’s mostly to gauge his reaction to being spanked, which is overwhelmingly favorable: he brings his knees up to his chest to give Leonard access to his ass and begs, “Leonard, Len, please.” 

Leonard pretends not to have heard him. “I asked you a question, Flash.”

He doubts Barry heard the question; if he did, being spanked drove it out of his head. All he can do in response is writhe and make little pleading noises. 

“Let’s see if a spanking jogs your memory.” 

He manhandles Barry onto his front and instructs, “Head down, ass up.” Barry settles gratefully into the new position, letting his head hang down and presenting his pert bottom for Leonard’s inspection. 

“Do you know what I think every time I see this tight little ass in red leather?” 

Barry shakes his head. Fleetingly, Leonard thinks that he’d expected his mouthy Scarlet to talk back to him in bed, and proceeds to wonder with growing alarm if he’ll be able to safeword out. For now, he decides to trust that Barry can get his attention if something goes wrong. 

“I think about this.” He rubs a hand over Barry’s ass, letting it linger long enough that Barry pushes back against it. There’s some of his Scarlet’s attitude. “Bending you over my knee or the nearest flat surface and spanking you until your skin is as red as your suit.” 

He could order Barry to keep count, but if he can’t—if he’s already too keyed up to talk or if he gets there midway through—Leonard doesn’t want him to feel like he’s done something wrong. Instead, he says aloud, “Ten, Flash. Just ten for now, although a slut like you deserves more.” 

Barry pushes his hips back into the first few smacks. Leonard increases his force, keeping a wary eye on Barry as he does. Thankfully, he seems to have done what Barry wants; the kid squirms and sobs until, on the ninth strike, he comes untouched. 

“Filthy boy,” Leonard scolds, delivering the final spank as little more than a pat. He wants to pull Barry into his lap, hold him and kiss him while he shudders through his orgasm, but that isn’t what the kid needs. “Can’t even wait until you’re on my dick. No, you get off on being spanked like the naughty little slut you are.” 

Barry’s arms give out and he topples forward onto the mattress. Leonard steadies him with a hand on his hip; with the other, he grabs a handful of the kid’s sweaty hair and tugs his head up out of the mattress.

“Turn your face to one side,” he orders. “Can’t have you smothering yourself before I’m done with you, Flash.” 

Obediently, Barry turns his face toward Leonard. This affords him a glimpse of his eyes for the first time since the spanking started. They’ve gone unfocused and hazy; his mouth is slack and tear tracks stain his cheeks. He looks wrecked and desperate and perfectly, blissfully content. 

“Focus, Flash.” Leonard taps his cheek. Barry almost manages to focus on his face, but the effort it takes looks exhausting. “Do you want me to fuck you like this, or would you rather be face-up?” 

Barry makes a soft, helpless sound and shakes his head. Leonard strokes gentle fingers through his hair. 

“Right. You’re too far gone to make a choice like that. Hmm, very well. Roll over, then. That’s it.” He helps Barry roll onto his back and rewards him with a kiss. “I want to watch you while I fuck you. Call me sentimental.” 

Barry spreads his legs eagerly. To Leonard’s delight, he’s either hard again or never softened. 

“Fast in every regard, aren’t you, Flash?” He wraps his fingers around Barry’s shaft and gives him a single, teasing stroke. Barry hitches his hips and makes a desperate keening noise—hard again, but still hypersensitive from his orgasm. Oh, this is too good. “Perfect trick for a little slut like you.” 

He reaches into the drawer of the bedside table and pulls out a bottle of lube. It’s in a Ziploc bag, which Leonard carefully sets aside. (Lisa discovered this years ago and has teased him mercilessly ever since. His response, invariably, is that nobody wants to risk getting lube all over the contents of their bedside table, and anyone who doesn’t put their lube in a bag has no regard for their possessions.) Barry’s eyes flutter open at the sound of the drawer whisking open and close again at the first touch of Leonard’s fingers. 

_“My,”_ Leonard laughs. There’s a breathless edge to his voice that he can’t quite hide, but they’re both so far gone that he doesn’t feel remotely ashamed. “You’re tight, little slut. And so _hot.”_

Barry rolls his hips down onto Leonard’s finger. Leonard presses deeper into him, unable to think beyond the idea of all that tight heat around his cock. 

“Greedy.” His voice wavers. Barry seems not to notice, only fucks himself shallowly on Leonard’s finger. “You just can’t get enough, can you?” 

Barry shakes his head. Leonard smirks. 

“Thought not.”

Despite the pounding urge to get inside Barry immediately, he takes his time. It’s worth it for Barry’s desperate moans, for the way he hitches his hips down into every one of Leonard’s thrusts, for the way he comes all over his belly when Leonard plays with his prostate. Leonard wants to lean down and lick him clean, but no—they haven’t planned this nearly enough for fluid sharing. If they do this again, perhaps, although he won’t allow himself to hope that there will be a second time. 

He’s careful, as always, when rolling a condom onto himself. Barry whines at the loss of Leonard’s fingers. Although Leonard wants to soothe him, he forces himself to sneer. “Needy, needy. Have a little patience, Flash.”

He has to remind himself of the same thing as he pushes inside. Despite the careful preparation, Barry remains dizzyingly tight. Leonard holds on to the last vestiges of his patience until he’s fully inside. Then, slowly, he starts to move. 

“Look at you.” He traces a slick thumb around the place where they’re joined. Barry keens and pushes his hips down, as though he wants Leonard’s thumb fucking into him alongside his cock. The idea sends a rush of heat down Leonard’s spine, and he has to pause so he doesn’t come before he’s ready. “Taking me like you were made for it. How often have you thought about this, Flash?” 

Barry mumbles something that might be ‘lots’ or ‘a lot.’ That’s…unexpected. And also flattering. 

“Do you think about it while you’re bending over for every other meta criminal in the city?” Leonard punctuates this with a deep, rough thrust that punches a moan out of Barry. “Do you let them fuck you and imagine it’s me?” 

Barry shakes his head. “You,” he manages. “Just you, just you…”

“Just me?” Leonard demands. The immediate answer soothes a possessive instinct he didn’t know had been directed at the kid.

Barry nods feverishly, pushing his head back against the mattress. This bares his throat in what Leonard can’t help reading as an invitation, and he takes it, sinking his teeth into the tender skin just below Barry’s jaw. 

“That’s right,” he growls against Barry’s skin. “You are _mine._ My Flash. My Scarlet. My little Barry Allen, and no one else gets to have you.” 

Barry hums low in his throat. Or…no, he isn’t humming. He’s vibrating, his whole body blurring into motion and then stilling just as quickly. There’s no rhythm to it, no regularity, just bursts of whole-body vibration that make sparks go off behind Leonard’s eyes. He’s terribly, torturously, knife-edge close, and he doesn’t want it to end yet. 

“Scarlet. Come for me, Scarlet. Come on.” 

Barry vibrates through his orgasm. The aftershocks ripple through him in more of those irregular bursts, each one too much for Leonard’s oversensitive skin. Reluctantly, he pulls away, wobbles to his feet, and disposes of the condom. While he’s up, he ought to get bottles of water, but he’s not sure he can walk to the kitchen just yet. Instead, he topples back into bed and curls around Barry, who’s finally gone still. 

“I’ve got you, Barry.” Now that the game is over, he can indulge his desire to coddle his speedster. “You were good for me, Barry. So good.”

Barry burrows close to him. His head settles comfortably in the crook of Leonard’s neck. Leonard presses a gentle kiss to his temple and whispers more praise into his hair.

He knows his Scarlet is back when Barry makes a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “I…I should go.” His voice is thick and sleepy, but it’s evident he means it.

“No.” Leonard tightens his hold on him. “Not like this.”

“I can…” Barry pushes weakly against his chest. “I should…I made you sleep with me, you didn’t want to, you shouldn’t have to…”

“Oh, no, Scarlet. Those are dangerous words.” Leonard captures both of Barry’s wrists with one hand. To his relief, Barry lets him. “Don’t presume to tell me what I did and didn’t want. You didn’t ‘make’ me do anything, and the fact that you think you did is why I can’t let you leave.” 

Barry blinks up at him. His eyes are wide and not-quite-focused, although he looks much clearer-headed than he did during the game. 

“Easy,” Leonard soothes. “It’s normal. You asked me to take you out of your head, Scarlet, and I did. Now we have to get you back into your head, and that’s a slightly more involved process. If you leave now, I’ll have done you more harm than good.” 

Barry frowns thoughtfully. “Like when I get into the upset headspace where everything needs to be quiet, and I have to get myself out of it kinda slow.” 

Leonard nods. “Different causes, same idea. You can’t run this off. It takes time and care.”

Without hesitation, Barry burrows back into his arms. Leonard hides a smile in the kid’s soft hair. He wanted Leonard’s comfort; he just needed permission to accept it. There is, he suspects, a great deal that Barry Allen won’t allow himself without someone else’s permission. For now, he has the ability to grant that permission, so he makes the most of it, lavishing Barry with food, comfort, and praise. It takes the better part of an hour, but eventually, Barry seems to find a stable headspace. 

“Do you want to tell me what that was about, Scarlet?” Leonard keeps his tone light. The last thing he wants is for Barry to think it’s an accusation. He hadn’t minded; he simply hadn’t expected it. 

“Remember when I asked for your help to save those metas from the Pipeline?” Barry asks. 

“And I double-crossed you,” Leonard reminds him. 

He nods. There’s no anger, not even a flash of irritation; whatever happened, it far outstrips the sting of Leonard’s double-cross. “The guy who set the Pipeline to blow was Eobard Thawne. He pretended to be Dr. Wells for years, after he…” Barry’s voice breaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “After he murdered my mother. It turns out the whole thing—finding me, making me the Flash, everything he did for me—was all part of this elaborate scheme.” 

“And let me guess,” Leonard drawls. “Even now that you’ve vanquished him, you can’t stop wondering if maybe you’ll turn out just as evil as he was because he had a hand in giving you your speed.” 

Barry nods. The pained look he wore at the start of the night reappears, but it’s less intense, less brokenhearted. The grief isn’t gone, but Leonard has taken a portion of it away for now. 

“Let me tell you something that I will deny to my dying day.” He pulls Barry’s legs across his lap. Agreeably, Barry hunkers closer. “The reason you fascinate me, Barry, is because your goodness is no act. You’re not only a hero when it benefits you. Your thought is always, always, to save lives even at cost to yourself. Those are not the actions of a man who could be swayed by the manipulations of an evildoer.”

As he speaks, Barry relaxes against him. He’s so sweet, so vulnerable, that Leonard has to continue. 

“I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you admire, Barry. It’s a deep, cutting feeling, and it stays with you all your life. The pain will dull with time, but it will always be there.” He can’t offer a soothing lie, no matter how much he wants to. Barry has known too much pain in his short life to believe anything but the truth. “Just don’t let it keep you from trusting again, Scarlet. I did, and look where it got me.” 

Barry glances up at him. “A criminal with an honor code,” he murmurs. “The only criminal I…”

Leonard arches an eyebrow. “‘Trust’? Oh, Barry, I’m obligated to tell you that trusting me is unwise.” 

“I know.” Guilt flickers across Barry’s face. “I just…I don’t know. When I thought about people who might be able to help me, you were at the top of the list.”

“For sex? I should think so,” Leonard laughs. “If you were looking for a man, your friend Cisco is cute, but I don’t know if he was quite what you were in the mood for.”

Barry purses his lips in the same disappointed expression he’s occasionally used as the Flash. It’s less intimidating than amusing, as though Leonard is being told off by a school principal half his age. “Never mind.”

“I tease.” Leonard strokes his fingertips over Barry’s cheek. It’s alarmingly easy to dote on his Scarlet; every touch, every gentle word is so beautifully received that he can’t wait to give another. “I know what you meant, Barry, and as unwise as I find it, I am also honored that you felt safe to come to me.”

“And with you,” Barry mutters. Leonard isn’t sure he’s supposed to hear that, but he can’t quite stop a snort of mirth. 

“And with me, yes.” 

Silence envelops them, warm and comfortable. Leonard is about to tell Barry that, should he want to leave, he’s probably safe to do so when he hears a faint, sleepy whiffle. His Scarlet is fast asleep in his arms.

“Here’s hoping this won’t be awkward in the morning,” he murmurs and lets his eyes close.


End file.
